


When Stephen Lost His Appetite

by frenchposie



Series: D.H. [1]
Category: Master and Commander - All Media Types, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)
Genre: Angst, Burial at Sea, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, HMS SUrprise - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, London, Medicine, Mentions of Cancer, Royal College of Physicians, Secrets, Surgery, Surgical Experiments, Surprise Ending, Trinity College, Tumor, damned hobbies, death's door, movie-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:31:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchposie/pseuds/frenchposie
Summary: When Stephen Maturin loses his appetite and cannot be treated on the ship, Captain Jack Aubrey puts his best friend's life first.  As he and Lieutenant Blackeney worry and grieve, they find solace in each other.  Friendship and mentorship relationships only.





	1. Chapter 1

The light was low in the great cabin, and although their instruments were out, neither man felt very much like playing. Stephen hadn’t felt very much like anything as of late. They hadn’t been in pursuit of anything, no battles stirring that their help was needed on. Were he not so tired all the time, he would likely have been restless. As it was he was tired, but not hungry. The lack of food had begun to strain his eyes and give him headaches. Even walking in the sunshine – something that once gave him so much pleasure was becoming something that he hated, for his legs were growing weak and his head light. 

Jack was similiarly distracted, worried for his friend whose appetite he had seen lessen considerably over the past weeks. He had inquired about Stephen’s health, but the man had brushed him off… he was merely tired. Certainly a man of his age could be given that bit of respect, and all that. Posh, though – and Jack knew it. Stephen Maturin was many things but old or infirm were not included in the list. 

“Please my friend, pick up your cello. Let us play a song to fill the silence,” Jack implored. He did not like the silence that had taken over his friend, nor how thin he had become. Stephen was never a stout man, tall and gangely were more appropriate descriptions. “Or are you hungry? Perhaps a bit of food would do you good.” It was stated kindly out of respect. Then man was sallow and gaunt, his eyes nearly haunted with whatever secret he had chosen not to impart on anyone else.

“Jack I know what’s wrong with me. I have consulted the best books, and even written a letter or two to Trinity College in Dublin and the Royal College of Physicians in London. In today’s dispatch I received word from London that I need to…” No, he would not put that on his friend. Jack was many things, but a Captain first and foremost. 

“That you need tooo…” the baritone voice held an air of familiarity, but it was demanding. He needed to know what was wrong with his friend. “Stephen I cannot stand it anymore. Please tell me what ails you. Don’t think for a second that I don’t see it.”

Stephen swallowed. His adams apple bobbing as he stated the words that he had hoped would never come. “I am dying, Jack. The Royal College states that if I’m not back on land within a month or so, I should find someone to sew my hammock. Would you be so kind? I can think of no other that I would want to have that honor.” Pleading brown eyes looked up over his gold wire framed spectacles. 

Captain “Lucky” Jack Aubrey – who had the loyalty of his crew and a list of skilled military officers who wanted to serve with him; who had a list of nearly one hundred young boys who wanted to become part of his juniorcrew, to be trained by the best; who had a wife and children in a country that he visited far too seldom – suddenly felt very small and insignificant. The words that he knew he would likely hear one day – but not this day – ringing in his ears. “Of what?”

“It bears no difference,” Stephen whispered. “Will you sew my hammock? Will you say the words that commit me to the sea?” His voice started to shake as he feared that his one true friend in the world, a man whom he held dearer in his heart than his own wife may deny his request. 

“Stephen it makes a great deal of difference. You of all people know that with the right care, you can live through anything,” Jack whispered, his voice harsh in the night air.

A simple shake of his head and, “I have tested… I have a tumor in my stomach. It cannot be removed.”

Silence engulfed the two men once more. It was Stephen who broke it.

“I never did want to be buried at sea. Seems that people only survive if you remember them. I suppose it’s my own fault really. I wanted my naturalist discoveries to bring me a ranking in society’s history of living things. But, if I am to die here… please be the one to sew my hammock. Make sure that I am dead, and commit me to the depths.” His voice was but a whisper, but it was the most powerful thing that Jack had ever heard him say. 

“I will get you to port. And I will sew your hammock. And I will have young Blackeney help me decipher your notes… we will publish them.” He made only promises that he intended to keep. He knew that they were within a week from an ally port. He would give his friend a land burial. Perhaps not the one he deserved, in England or Ireland. But, the man was not to be forgotten to the depths. 

Stephen smiled and breathed out a small laugh through his nose. “I wish I could fill your cabin with laughter and song as we once did, Jack. And,” he smiled, “I hope that when you join me we can sit on the banks of Heaven and tell songs and stories of when we were young.” They had planned on doing that in retirement. He had longed for that dream for most of his life.

The next day the doctor slipped into a deep sleep. He would awaken from time to time to speak to one person or another. All came to pay their respects to the doctor, as they understood how precarious his situation was when the Captain had ordered that they pull into the next ally port. 

“What am I going to do without you?”

The voice was far too young to be that of his dearest friend Captain Aubrey. Opening his eyes, he gave a half smile to Lieutenant Blackeney. The boy had been elevated and was climbing the ranks quite well. Soon, he would lose his interest in naturalistic things to continue his prospective career. Stephen was happy that he had taken so well to leadership, and certainly didn't begrudge him leaving his childhood fancies behind. After all, being a surgeon wasn't Stephen's first field of study. And, his current situation reminded him that things couldn't stay the same forever.

“You will make a fine captain. You will gain respect of your crew and the navy. And when you are sad or you find a rare looking bird or bug – you will draw. And someday, when you’re old as I am, the Naturalist Society of London will award you for all of your contributions to society.”

The young man’s eyes slid away as he looked dubious about the painfully whispered statement of a man whom he considered a friend. “Have you ever been inducted into their collections, sir?”

A small unintentional groan emanated from the doctor. “Look in my papers. The top one.”

The young man touched the others belongings with the greatest of care. Picking up the top paper a look of surprised joy spread across his face. “You, sir, have been inducted into the order of the Royal Society, with all rights, responsibilities, and privileges hitherto. Sir, that’s amazing. Does the captain know?”

The doctor smiled knowingly. “I think that’s something you should tell him.” 

A confused look crossed the boy’s face. “Me? Why me?” 

The doctor warred with himself on if he should tell the young man why or not. “Because the Captain will need a friend. And while he won’t trouble you with his concerns, he may share them with you if you do to he first. He may need your help as captain for a little while… or to take his mind off things when the skies turn too dark. That letter will do – for a start.”

“I don’t want to replace you,” Blackeney replied, his voice tight with repressed emotion. “I never could.”

Stephen only smiled and closed his eyes, letting the darkness take him. Cosmos collided in his mind. The dark and the light with the purple colors of swirling joy. In his head he heard Diana, and longed for her touch. Feeling poured into him like milk from a pitcher: feelings of loss and regret, of stimulating conversation over music and wine. He regretted the times he let his personhood get in the way of the friendship that would stay in his heart forever.

Stephen. Stephen.

The voice cut through his consciousness like a wave across the ocean, gently prickling at the edges of his consciousness. Feeling nauseous suddenly, he rolled to the side. He had been waiting for this – for the final expulsion of his fluids as he let himself be taken by God to the great beyond. 

Vaguely aware of his stomach seizing, he felt himself being held in place. Too weak to fight it, he lolled his head to the side and let his body do what it needed. A cool cloth to his face, caused his eyes to open. It was Blackeney – and they were outdoors. Panicked, his eyes searched for Jack, who he found was a few feet away speaking to someone, and handing them a bit of money. His slow, sick, malnourished brain told him that he was on land and being admitted to a hospital. 

“S’all right, sir. The captain and I are staying for a week or two before we have to return to the ship.”

The words meant to calm the doctors did just that. Stephen knew that he would not live that long. He didn’t want to anymore. “The ship?” he asked. 

“In harbor. Nothing for you to concern yourself with. Everything is fine doctor.”

“Jack…” he breathed. “Jack!” he started to become agitated. 

“Captain?” Blackeney called. 

The captain came to the other two, and looked down at Stephen. “You’ll be cared for here. And we’ll stay for a bit of time. The ocean will always be there.” He smiled sadly at his friend, and stepped back, motioning for the boy to do the same.


	2. Chapter 2

The normally thin man was practically frail as he laid out on the hospital bed, covered only with a thin blanket.  Private rooms were not easy to come by, but the reputation of the man in the bed coupled with the boisterous nature of the captain who he served under made it possible for him to procure a room.  Granted it wasn’t a private hospital room, per say, but more the room of a low ranking physician who was learning at the College.

The young Lieutenant Blakeney was nearly constantly at the man’s side, not even leaving when Captain Aubrey came in.  Were they on board the ship, the two of them would take turns watching over the man.  But, on shore, they had precious little to do with their time.

As it was, the captain had made time to speak with the physician overseeing their friend’s care.  Blakeney sat stone faced, as he watched his friend and mentor’s slow, shallow breathing.  He thought of the work the two of them had done together, and how he wished to complete the paperwork that was once verbally read to the doctor. 

At the doctor’s request, he had taught him the most basic of seamanship.  A joke had been said, an off handed comment… little things that did not cast the doctor in a favorable light.  The man was too well educated and too highly intellectual to be done in by the likes of seaman, not that he would ever verbalize it that way. 

In the end, Blakeney had read him the midshipman’s test… the most basic of all knowledge needed to serve in His Majesty’s Navy.  And, by God, he had passed it.  He knew pertinent information regarding seamanship, even though he never spoke of it.  As far as Blakeney knew, no one except the two of them knew that.  If he didn’t think it would shame the good doctor, he would complete the paperwork himself and hand it over to the proper people.  Of course, the right person was the captain, first.  Any paperwork going to the naval administration needed to be signed by him.  But, as far as he knew, the captain did not know of their arrangement.  He couldn’t bear to humiliate his friend by betraying his trust.

The soft foot falls of boots captured his attention, and he looked up to see the captain approaching.  While the captain had never been a jovial man, the weight of the burdens he bore seemed to bow his considerable shoulders.  “Would you ask me to leave?” Blakeney asked, his voice but a whisper.

“I would ask you to stay,” the captain answered, sitting down next to him.  “The doctors say the prognosis is grim,” he whispered.  “They say the tumor has taken up near the entirety of his stomach.  At this point, all they can do is keep him comfortable.”

Blakeney felt as though his heart might burst.  To lose those one serves with was a way of life.  And to lose the doctor to battle or even an errant disease was expected.  But, to lose him like this – wasting away as a tumor starved him slowly was not right.  He focused very hard on his friend, as though the doctor would become well simply because he wished it.

“I have made arrangements that he’ll stay here and not be moved.  His wife has been contacted.  You will also be provisioned for as well.”

Blakeney was nearly aghast at the mention of a wife.  He had no idea that the doctor was married.  “Are you leaving us, sir?” he asked, trying to focus on that which mattered to him personally.

“Of course not.  I simply don’t want you to be concerned about trivial things.”

“Thank you sir.  I expect my wages will be garnished?” The premise terrified him.  He had little of his own; his wages the only thing truly to his name.  Certainly, he would inherit his family estate, but he hoped to make a life for himself by that point.

“Of course not.  Don’t think on such things.”  The captain kept his voice quiet, but his tone was serious.  It broached no room for argument, and yet was completely honest and gracious.

“Thank you, sir,” he responded looking back at their friend.

“Come,” the captain, stated.  “Let us clean up and get some lunch.” 

\---

They had been put up in the same suite of rooms.  The captain had a larger room and the lieutenant a room barely large enough to hold its bed.  There was also an office that conjoined the two, which was where they had put Stephen’s most personal affects.  His surgical kit, books that he used frequently, as well as his journals and writing kits.  And of course his personal trunk and writing board. The locked writing board was where the doctor kept his personal writings.  When they took it from the ship, they noticed that the initials D.H. inscribed in the back. 

The only person that the captain could think of was Dianna, but the H did not fit those initials.  Perhaps it was a sweetheart that he had taken, or once had. Someone whom they had never discussed.  As much as the captain thought of Stephen as the doctor, the man had been an intelligent agent and was much more complicated than the naïve ships surgeon that he often portrayed. 

As they each finished cleaning up, they met in the study.  Blakeney’s eyes drifted to the box that his friend kept his most private papers in.  There were a few that he wanted to show the captain, in case the man wanted to speak to his dying friend about.  And, always on his mind was the midshipman’s exam. 

“I wish to show you something sir,” he said, going to the writing box.

“That’s not yours to go through,” the captain admonished. 

“I know precisely what I’m looking for, sir,” he said, pulling the key from its hidden drawer and unlocking the box with the ease of practice.  He put the top piece of paper, the one that he never actually read but knew was always on the top, to the side.  Pulling out a small piece of folded paper, he handed it to the captain.

The captain unfolded it carefully, and blinked as he read the familiar hand.

 

> _To the sun_
> 
> _The lesser of two weevils_
> 
> _Mermaids_
> 
> _I-C-U-R-M-T_
> 
> _Weather Gage_
> 
> _SIrens_
> 
> _Jonah_
> 
> _To the stars_
> 
> _Octopus that eats ships_

A confused look crossed the captain’s face as he turned to the young lieutenant.  The boy had become very close to Stephen, that much was obvious.   The familiarity with his personal papers, somewhere that the captain himself dared not find familiarity proved that.  But, this piece of paper – he remembered a few of the statements, but others just seemed like normal discussions.  Giving the young man the confused look he waited for an explanation.

“These were topics brought up that made him feel foolish.  Topics and jokes that he didn’t understand,” the young man explained gently.  He took a deep breath and pursed his lips together.  “Permission to speak freely.”

“Speak as you will.”

“I know that you and the doctor were the closest of friends, so I won’t presume to know more about him than you.  But, he is the most intelligent man I ever met. And, it was my privilege to explain these things to him.  He understands them now.  He won’t embarrass you again.”

A wave of fury crashed upon the captain like a stormy wave crashing upon a reef.  Paper in hand, he stormed out of their quarters and into the room where Stephen slept.

The doctor came to when the door of the small room slammed.  “What is this?” he asked, holding onto the paper that he dared not show his friend, for fear that he would be upset that they had gone through his personal papers.

“I can’t see it Jack,” the man answered, his voice a hushed whisper. 

“Why would you go to him instead of me?  If you didn’t understand something about seamanship, I would have explained it to you.”

A small sigh and a groan emanated from the ill man.  “Ah, he showed you the jokes.”

“Why Stephen?  Why go to him?”  The hurt in the captains voice was undeniable. 

“You did explain it to me, Jack.  But, you grew weary and thought I was foolish for not understanding – often in front of the other officers.”  He sighed.  From all the men he had ever counselled into death, he had never been told of the ache that death weighed on the body, the heart, and the soul.  “Blakeney was discreet in his teachings, and I did not feel like a fool when he spoke to me.”  At his old friend’s crestfallen look, he continued.  “My apologies brother.  I did not tell you to cause you grief.  You had more important things to do than teach me seamanship.”

“I apologize for making you feel like a burden, Stephen.  Or a fool.  You never were either.”  He thought about how freely his friend asked him questions, and how often conversations stopped as the captain took the time to explain things to him as though he were a midshipmen – or even a cabin boy.  The memories made his heart ache, as he realized that to look competent in front of the crew his had belittled the most intelligent man that he had ever had the fortune to serve with. 

“It’s nothing, Jack.”  Stephen said, his breath getting heavy.  “We know different things,  you and I.  I wouldn’t ask you to understand the surgical procedure to remove this tumor.  And, you never expected me to be an able member of your crew.”

“You are an able member of my crew.  Perhaps one of the most important members.  Your knowledge and expertise is irreplaceable.”

Love shone in Stephen’s eyes at Jacks words.  “Well, perhaps my death will allow you to get a more… intelligent doctor…”

“I don’t understand.”  Hadn’t he just finished telling Stephen how much he respected and admired him?

“Ah,” Stephen responded, as though Jack had answered a great question of the ages.  “Well continue to go through my papers, and I’m sure we’ll have many of these such talks.”  He forced a smile.  “I’d rather you go through my papers now, than when I can no longer give you an explanation.”

A single nod.

“Have you written to Dianna?” Stephen asked, hopefully. 

“She’s left for Ireland, I believe,” Jack lied.  He had not heard from Stephen’s wife, and he was starting to wonder if she ever would.  “I have sent a letter to your estate there.  I’m sure she will be on her way soon.”

Stephen closed his eyes and nodded.  He yearned for the nurse to be back in, as he needed another dose of laudanum.  Not enough for him to lose his mental capabilities.  Merely enough for him to get some blessed sleep. 

\---

When the captain came back to the shared quarters, he said little to Blakeney before putting the paper back in Stephen’s box.  He, too, ignored the paper on the top, but his brow furrowed a bit, as he came across something.  A smile rose on his face, and he pulled out some drawings, much too rudimentary to be Stephens.  “He was always very proud of you, Mr. Blakeney,” he mumbled. 

“I never understood why he wanted to hold on to my old drawings.   But, I’m glad he did.”  The young man forced a smile.  “I apologize for upsetting you sir.  I wanted you to know how well he regarded you.  And, how hard he worked for you to consider him to be an intellectual equal.”

“He is my intellectual superior in many things.  It was my folly to forget that.”  He paused and a far away look came into his eyes.  “When you, Mr. Blakeney are fortunate enough to find a friend whose counsel you trust above all else, don’t take it for granted.  Not for second.  Not even for the respect of the others in the room.  For when it has all come to pass, it is your memories that you must live with.”

“Yes, sir.” A pause, and then.  “Come, let us put away these thoughts for now and dine.  Then we can watch over our dear friend.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It is highly suggested that you read my other Series: The Companionship of a Captain and His Physician to understand the paperwork in Stephen’s writing desk.

William Blakeney had been born for a life at sea.  His father had serve with Captain Jack Aubrey, which had helped him get the position as a midshipman under his command.  He was raised on stories of the brazen, wise, and sometimes over-zealous Jack Aubrey.  But, sitting across from the small side table, eating a simple breakfast of eggs and meat, the young man could not help but wonder if there was a humanity missing from the stories. 

He had long admired the captain for the humanity that he showed the crew: the small smiles that twinkled in his eyes when the junior officers did something that amused or impressed him; the crazy-like-a-fox look that he would get when he was strategizing.  And now, the quiet vulnerable man that the seemed to have trouble making eye contact with anything but his plate.

“Sir,” Blakeney said quietly, engaging the silence in the room.  When the captain sat up straighter and brought his broken glance to meet with the young man’s rapidly fading resolve.  “I apologize if what I showed you yesterday upset you.”

“I appreciate the apology Mr. Blakeney, but it is not owed.  I was… I responded poorly.”  There was more he wanted to say, something else to thank the young man for his friendship and patience with Stephen.  But, he couldn’t formulate the words.  It was known that Jack was protective of Stephen, and that the two were fond of each other.  He would have been blind to see the friendship building between the young man and the doctor.  But, the idea that Stephen felt so confused, so humiliated that he couldn’t come to the captain.  That wounded his pride beyond what he was able to rectify with himself.

“Well, sir… I…”  He took a deep breath, and focused on the captain.

“What is it?” the words were clipped.  “Say it, sir.  Whatever it is.”  Shielding himself from whatever hurt was going to be aimed at him, whatever ill-timed nicety the young man was going to land on him. 

Getting up from the table, the young man went to Stephen’s writing desk and unlocked it.  “The doctor came to me for another thing.  I don’t tell you this to upset you, but because I think you have a right to know precisely how much he wanted to … impress you.” 

“Stephen knew that his intelligence was highly regarded by me.  Likely, yourself, Mr. Blakeney, he was from a highly respectable family, and knew good graces and how to make his way with people.  Like you, he was able to read people – perhaps too well.”

Blakeney continued what he was doing as the captain spoke.  Nimble fingers went through the box until it withdrew an envelope.  Turning around abruptly, he strode to the captain, in full at attention stride.  Handing over the envelope, he handed  it to the captain, and stood at attention.

“What is it?” the captain asked. 

“It is something that I wanted to give to you, but the doctor wouldn’t allow it.  He said that he did not take the … lessons… from me because he wanted to change to command, but because he wanted to understand it.”

Jack’s insides ran cold.  “Lessons, what lessons?” he asked.  His angry display at Stephen the day before rang in his mind.   He wondered if these lessons were in any way related to the ‘more intelligent doctor’ that Stephen had mentioned. 

The blonde’s head tipped to the side slightly as he took another deep breath and gathered more of his rapidly slipping resolve.  “It started months ago…  he um.” He took a deep breath and licked his suddenly dry lips. 

“State it, Mr. Blakeney.  What is inside this envelope?” Jack felt his patience rapidly dissolving, and the obvious nervousness of the young man in front of him was not helping him keep his temper. 

“Just open it sir.”

“Are you presuming to give me orders now?” Jack said, puffing his chest out and standing to his full height.  He glowered down at the young man whose eyes widened.

“No, sir!” he retorted.  “I just thought… “ He paused as a better way to do this crossed his mind.  Standing to his limited height, he clasped his hands behind his back.  “I submit the midshipman’s exam for Dr. Stephen Maturin to you, Captain Jack Aubrey, for review and approval.”  He held his breath, and hoped that this would go better than the day before had. 

Jack’s brow furrowed in confusion as he regarded the young man in front of him.  Opening the envelope slowly, he saw the questions for the midshipman’s exam written in Blakeney’s hand and the answers in the undeniable chicken scratch of Stephen.   Reviewing the answers, he smiled and huffed out a laugh.  “Are you saying that you gave Dr. Stephen Maturin the midshipman’s exam?”

“Unofficially, of course.  We’d need your signature to make it official, but he didn’t want that.  He didn’t want to go into command. He just wanted to understand it.”

Must I explain it to you again Stephen? Jack heard his own voice echo in his head.  This was certainly part of the answer that Stephen had not quite given the day before when Jack had questioned why he had asked for assistance Blakeney and not him.

Despite the chills that suddenly wracked his sizable frame, he smiled proudly.  “It was good of you to do this for him.  And quietly.  I’m certain the doctor appreciates your confidentiality, and this… this explains why he trusts you so completely.”  He could sign it – make Stephen an official midshipman. But, even Blakeney had said that Stephen didn’t want to go into command.   Which was best, really because while Stephen understood people, he did not understand command.   “I would sign it.  But, I think at this point in his career, the diminished rank would be an insult to him.”

Blakeney nodded.  “I agree sir.”  A pause.  “I’m proud of him, sir.  He really wanted to understand terms and why a ship runs the way it does.  It was an honor to teach him.”  He smiled at the memories and snorted with a small laugh.

“Is this a joke to you, Mr. Blakeney?” the captain asked, although he was fairly certain that it was not.

“No, sir.  I apologize sir.  Dr. Maturin as intelligent and wonderful as he is… he had some interesting questions.  Like why we don’t tar the deck at night.”  He couldn’t stop the smile on his face from growing.

Despite himself, Jack smiled.  A shallow chuckle made its way out as he sat back down and offered for Blakeney to do the same.  “I assume you explained why we don’t work at night?” he asked kindly

Blakeney’s smile grew when he realized that he was not going to be chastised.  “Yes, sir,” he said, starting to eat his breakfast again. 

“Well, sir.  If you are going to show me something out of his writing desk, do allow me to do the same to you.”  After all, isn’t that what Stephen had said he wanted?  He wanted the two of them, his most trusted friends, to go through his personal affects together. 

Getting up, he shifted through the writing box.  He saw a small scrap of paper with nothing but the word Chandler.  Taking the paper he folded it and put it in his pocket.  Blakeney knew about that situation, he had been there after all.  With no little bit of remorse, he wondered if the lessons for the midshipman’s exam took place during the Chandler situation.   He had been so foolish during that whole situation, made a fool of in front of his own crew.  Not that Stephen allowed the crew to see him that way.  The man was phenomenal at his job – not just a phenomenal surgeon, but as a spy.  The latter was known by no one but the captain, and Jack had forgotten just how good of a spy Stephen actually was. 

His hand fell on a letter… to himself?  Dear Captain Jack Aubrey the letter began.  Scanning the letter, he felt the wind be forced out of him.  Light-headed he read the most horrid letter that he ever thought could exist. 

“Sir?” Blakeney asked, walking up to him.  Being more bold than he would ever think possible, he put his hand on the captain’s back.  “Sir, what is it?”

Jack blinked his eyes repeatedly, first certain that he was misreading the letter, and then to keep the tears and other emotions from leaking out of him.   His breathing became ragged as he tried to recall when or why such a thing would occur.  Certainly, he and Stephen had their quarrels.  The two men looked at life so differently that they couldn’t help but quarrel.   To the outside observer, they had practically nothing in common.  But, their friendship was Jack’s most valuable treasure.  The idea that Stephen would want to leave his direct service crushed him. 

“Sir, please.  Let’s sit down,” Blakeney said, pushing the captain to the sofa.  Putting a hand on the captain’s shoulder, he gave a gentle comforting squeeze before going and pouring a glass of wine.  “Here, sir.  Drink.  Slow,” he said, sitting next to him and holding the glass towards him. 

His breathing still ragged, he combated the light-headedness that clouded his vision.   He felt the paper be drawn from his hands and looked over at his subordinate.  Vulnerability did not come easy to the man, and he had no idea what to say or do.  There were no words that could explain the terrible pain in his heart. 

“Take the glass, sir,” Blakeney said, placing the paper on the coffee table.  “Whatever it is…”

“He resigned,” the captain gasped out, taking the glass with a shaking hand.  He sipped the wine slowly, letting the liquid sooth his frazzled nerves. 

“Who, sir?  No one would be foolish enough to resign your command.”  The words were genuine. The tone sincere. 

Captain Aubrey smiled despite himself.  The young man’s adoration was one of the most sincere forms of flattery that he had ever been graced with.   Taking a few more sips, he felt the calming effects move from his nerves to his muscles and, finally, his mind.  “Read it,” he stated, gesturing towards the discarded paper. 

Blakeney picked up the paper and read it, his face drawing up in confusion.  “This can’t be right.  There has to be something else… perhaps a misunderstanding.”  He looked at the captain.  “If he meant to resign, he would have given it to you.”

“If he didn’t mean to, he would have burned it.  Whatever happened, he kept it… “  He took a deep, quivering breath. 

Blakeney took his own deep breath.  He didn’t know what to say to ease the captain’s suffering.   “We should visit the doctor.”

\----

When they came to Stephen’s room, the doctors were in there speaking to him in hushed tones. 

“I agree.  It would be of immeasurable importance to science.  But, they must not know.  Just the…”  his voice fell away as he painfully craned his neck to see his two dearest friends in all the world walk in.  “Yes, of course,” he said with a nod.  He penned his name on paperwork and waved the doctor away. 

Looking over the two coming in, he sighed.  “I assume you found something,” he said, looking as though he were about to get chastised. 

Blakeney allowed the captain to go first, more from concern than anything else.  Realizing that he was not supposed to hear whatever conversation was about to happen next, he gave the two a small bow. “I’ll be back shortly.  I left something in the suite.”

Jack sat down on the chair to which he had become so accustomed over the past week.  Sorrowful brown puppy eyes looked at his friend.  He had been considering how to say all the things that were swirling around in his head, but he found himself to say much of anything at all.  Pressing his hand to his mouth, he hunched over, putting his elbows on his knees. 

“I assume you found the resignation letter,” Stephen said, mercifully speaking for him.

A nod.  “There was no date on the letter.  When was it written, Stephen?  When did…  was it during the chase of the Acheron?”  The two of them had quarreled extensively during that time more than almost any other time in their friendship.  

He regarded his friend with tired eyes.  “No… our quarrels didn’t get personal then.”  They did redefine their importance in each other’s lives, but that was something that the captain had more than made up for since. 

Hand clenched in a fist, Jack pressed his cheek against it.  “Personal?  We always get personal, sir.  Barbs, insults to eachothers character and frame of mind.  If not then, what did I say that made you feel that your best course of action was to resign from my command?  Was I so awful to serve under, that our friendship could not transcend any difference of opinion that we may have had?”

A wet gurgle that may have been a chuckle emanated from Stephen.  “You were obstinate, my great tortoise.  But,” he coughed wetly.  “You were never awful, joy.  You… you really don’t remember, do you?”

“Please… please Stephen… what did I say?  What comment went too far?  Went far enough for you to feel that you were unworthy of being under my command.”  The word was Stephens, taken from the letter.  “That I needed a more competent physician?  There is none more competent you, my friend.  I trust no one as I trust you.”

“I understand.”  Stephen smiled.  “Jack, I never intended to give you that letter.  We had quarreled and you had said that I was a pathetic excuse for a doctor.   You had fever dreams and there was more talk of my resignation.  I had to write the letter.  If I didn’t it would have eaten me up inside.”

“Why not burn it after?   We’ve all done that.  Written a letter to burn it… why did you hold onto it?”  He didn’t remember the situation that the doctor was talking about.  But, whatever had transpired nearly cost him the most dear friend he’d made in his lifetime. 

“I needed to remember that everything ends.  But, life continues on, and we,” he smiled. “We had some great times after.  Great conversations, meals, music.  Our friendship didn’t end, it didn’t even change.”  He held his breath against a wince of pain. 

The two sat in companionable silence for a while, as Stephen’s breathing got heavier and more ragged.  “I want to tell him… about the other part of my life.”

“Blakeney?”

“Yes.  The young man will make a fine officer.  He’s brilliant, and he’s likely to find out anyway.  I don’t want him to feel as though I lied to him.”

“You don’t need to tell him anything, Stephen.  The fact is that he may feel like you lied anyway – omission of the truth and all.  Besides, wasn’t it the King in the Apollo story who heard the lies and lost?”

It was an odd bastardization of the story, but Stephen understood where he was going with it.  He smiled at him feeling the weight of his condition pressing on his mind again. 

“Jack… I was never going to give you that letter.  I would do anything to stay under your command.  You are an asset to the King and the navy.  Thank you for years of service and friendship, my brother.  Soul, you were God’s gift to me in a harsh and dangerous world.  Thank you for being …”  His words failed him and his eyes closed as he fell back to sleep.

\---

The Captain and Mr. Blakeney ate mostly in silence for the first bit of lunch.  

“I want to thank you, Mr. Blakeney, for allowing me time with Stephen.  I don’t know that we would have been so free with each other otherwise.  But, I do know that he is your friend as well, and I will give you both time after lunch.”  He took a long drink of his wine.

“It’s nothing sir.  I understand,” he smiled.  “I have a few good friends and we are more free with each other when others aren’t looking on.  I hope you were able to work out whatever was going on in that letter.   Perhaps we should burn it.  Sometimes letters like that are better forgotten.”

Wiping his mouth lightly, the captain shook his head.  “No.  If nothing else it will remind me to keep my head in high stress situations.”  Not remembering the instance that affected his friend so soundly weighed on him.  Whatever had transpired had, no doubt, been done in the heat of an argument.  Jack had dismissed it from his mind and his friend had held it in, written it down, and made it part of his personality.  It had affected Stephen, hurt him.   And, he – someone who called himself the doctor’s closest friend – didn’t even notice.

“That’s good, sir,” Mr. Blakeney responded.  He smiled at the captain before continuing.  “Because I have something that you’re going to want to see, and then we can visit Stephen together.”  He went back to the writing desk.

“With all due respect, I’m not certain that I can handle any more of your surprises, sir,” the captain replied. 

Blakeney chuckled.  “No, this one you’ll enjoy, sir.  I know that when he showed me, I nearly leapt for joy.”

Turning from the table he waved the boy towards him.  “Now I’m trusting you on this Mr. Blakeney.  At your age, you don’t mind a few surprises in a day. But, at my age, unless the surprise is on the sea, I can only take so many.”

Blakeney smiled, “You can trust me on this, sir.”  He reached for the top paper, and read it over, his grin growing to one of immense pride.

Handing over the paper, his grin only grew as a small grin spread over the captain’s face.  “He did it.  He did it!  Mr. Blakeney, this was thing that the doctor wanted most in his lifetime.”  The captain jumped up and started to pace excitedly.  “Come!  The food will keep.  We must congratulate Stephen immediately!”

Rushing into Stephen’s room, the two of them nearly bounced into the door, the wall, and each other.  They were giddy as school children, and if people had asked they would both deny the silliness that transpired.  Stepping in as quietly as their excitement would allow, they quickly sobered up as they watched two doctors standing around Stephens bed.

“We’re sorry to disrupt your good time,” one of them said, addressing the Captain and Mr. Blakeney, "but I regret to inform you that Doctor Stephen Maturin has passed on.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some basic surgery will be described in this chapter.  It is too basic for those who love that sort of thing, and was written for the casual reader.  I know what’s lacking.  It was a literary decision.

Swirls of blue and black, that were far too similar to the pain that he felt were wisping across his vision and through his mind.  The torment of his soul seemed to curse the very beating of his heart.  Captain Jack Aubrey sat in a chair, but he knew not where.  Peering a bit from beneath his eye lids showed that he was still at the College. 

His skin ached as though held in some tourniquet – like when Stephen had staunched his bleeding not merely once but far too many times.  Pressing a handkerchief to his face, he found himself sobbing once more, for his friend whom he had lost.  For the man whom had passed, who was so misunderstood.  For the man whom he himself had taken for granted too many times.   His sobs did not lessen after a time, and he found that this sort of behavior was unfit for a man of his rank and station. 

He couldn’t help but recall when Stephen’s life was in the hands of that fool Higgins.  He remembered the terrible feeling in his heart as he watched his friend be shot, and the fear that he would die.  No matter how afraid he had been, it was nothing compared to the horror of his friend behind dead.

Dead. 

He always knew about the definiteness of death, of course.  He had lost many a shipmate and crew member.  But, never before had he lost someone whom he held as close as a brother.  The reat joy of his life, who showed him temperance and love even when – maybe especially when – he did not deserve it.  A man who had seen him at his absolute worst, and yet remained loyal and true until the very end.

Dressing in his uniform, he went to Mr. Blakeney, who had been spending the time apart from him.  The young man had found comfort in nature, rather like the doctor would have.  The captain swallowed against the great pain in his heart.  He had no idea how to comfort the young man.  Faith, he had no right to be comforting anyone.

“Sir,” he said coming up to the young man, who seemed to be… drawing a beetle.   The captain huffed a laugh, and wondered if getting them to talk together had been part of the doctors’ plan all along.  The man had known that he would die, and he set the two of them up to be support for each other. 

Blakeney looked up at him and stood at attention.  “Sir.”  He had no other words.   He grief had swallowed his heart and his feelings along with it.  Even knowing that he was in England and could see his family, he had no interest in doing so.   His mum, bless her heart, would want him to talk – to hold him and kiss him, and he had no interest in being spoken to, let along speaking himself.   His father might understand, if the younger man could explain.  But, words were hard to come by.   He didn’t want to explain… he wanted his real family… Bowden, Pullings, Mowatt… the doctor. 

“Mr. Blakeney, I will be returning home,” the captain spoke well, addressing him formally.

“To the ship, sir?”

“No.  To Ashgrove Cottage.  My wife is there… and children.  I can give you a ride to the countryside to see your parents.  I am certain that they would love to see you.”

Blakeney shook his head.  “No, sir.  Not this this time ashore.  I have no interest in doing such things.”

“Are you certain?  I’m certain…”

“Yes, I am certain,” Blakeney snapped.  He couldn’t deal with people right now.  In times of great suffering and great sadness, the only person whom he had come to want to see was the doctor.  But, when he had checked to see if he could sit with the doctor, he was told that his was indisposed.

Uncertain of what that meant in regards to death and the treatment of a dead body on hand, he had been assured that he would be alerted when the burial was to take place.  “Will you not be staying for the doctor’s burial?  It is to take place just after the… awards ceremony on Friday.”

“Award ceremony?”

“Yes, sir.  The College has decided to award Doctor Maturin his inclusion into the Society posthumously.  It was assumed that you, as his commanding officer would accept the award, but I shall do it if you do not wish to attend.”  He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.  He was hurt that the captain would not see fit to be at the ceremony, but it was not his place to judge.

Friday.  That was only three days away.  Not nearly enough time for Jack to make it home and back.  The two of them would certainly need to learn to grieve together because circumstances seemed destined to not allow them to do so apart.  “I’ll be there, sir.  And then we will go back to the ship.  The rest of the crew will be expected back on Sunday, when we will follow our new orders.”

“Sir, the doctors burial will be on Saturday.  We will attend, won’t we sir?”  Tears brimmed on the edges of his expressive brown eyes. 

“Yes, of course.  The doctor always wanted a land burial, you know.  He was always concerned about being committed to the depths and forgotten.”   He didn’t know why he was telling this to the young man, but it seemed the thing to do.  They both knew the doctor and held him as a close friend, if not a brother.  The captain assumed that none knew the doctor better than the two of them, and therefore none would grieve quite as hard. 

The young man bent his head, as the tears broke free.  Sobs escaped despite his best efforts to contain them.  Before he could gain control of his emotions, he felt himself be pulled close, his head pulled into the captain’s broad chest. 

“It’s all right, William,” a soothing baritone told him.  “It’s all right to cry and miss the doctor.  He was a very special man, and…”  He ran out of words as his breath squeezed out of him.  Unable to say his own words through his pain, he just held the boy close and allowed himself to feel his own pain.  Far too soon, he felt the young man pull away. 

“I’m sorry, sir.  I’ll endeavor not to lose control again.”  Blakeney took a few shuddering breaths but finally regained control.

“This is nothing for you to be ashamed of.  And… once we’re back onboard the ship, if you feel the need or the inclination, you are free to visit me in the great cabin in order to speak of our dear friend.  After all, people aren’t forgotten if those who knew them continue to speak of them.”  

“Yes, sir,” Blakeney responded.  “Thank you, sir.”

“We shall return to the ship Friday night, and let the men know of the doctor’s funeral arrangements.  I’m s-sure at least some of them would like to attend to play their last respects.”

“Yes, sir.”

\---

Dr. Annesley was a stately sort of man who always wore the finest of fashion.  Despite his humble beginnings, he had been able to show himself as a fine physician.  He had become fascinated with the anatomy and the inner workings of the digestive tract following his working with John Hunter, himself.  But, never in his wildest dreams did he believe that he would be working with Dr. Barrow who had created a name for himself working on tumors.  When the two fellows of the Society heard about the tumor which had befallen the newly inducted Stephen Maturin, they knew that they had to work with him to study the anomaly inside him.

It was Sir John Barrow, to whom Maturin had initially reached out to, asking about symptoms of an attached cyst or tumor.  But, when the letter had come in of the pain, the size, and breadth of the tumor, and when the man had sent them a small sample, they knew that they needed to get him to the Royal College of Physicians, alive, in order to further their own studies, and maybe even save the man’s life.

Telling his friends, the officers of His Majesties Navy, that the man had died had been difficult.  But, it was a necessary deed. The fact was that the surgery was unlikely to work, and none of the three doctors wanted to give any hope of recovery. 

“Here’s your laudanum, doctor.  Take but a teaspoon, not a bit more.  It’ll put you in a light sleep and we’ll be able to rouse you if we need to.  We don’t want you sleeping too deeply, sir.  It may slow down your vital signs and we need those to be predictable.”

A lifetime of service to the Crown had created a bit of a hardship for Maturin to sleep.  So he had long since become accustomed to the effects of laudanum.  However, he took the prescribed dosage.  After all, for once in his existence, this was not his surgery.  He would have to trust other doctors to do what they thought best. 

When the drug had taken effect, Dr. Annesley started the procedure by ever so gently pulling his scalpel along the side of Maturin’s stomach, pressing deeper as he repeated the cut.  When the skin had been properly cut, and the sides pulled apart, Dr. Barrow went into the wound with needle nosed tweezers and a scraper, careful to pull out only the offending tumor.

Sweat dripped from the doctors as they worked tirelessly to free the tumor from its fleshy prison.  It had attached to both sides of the stomach, causing back up and festering of any food or drink taken in.  Suction tubes were placed in to the tract to remove the food and drink that had rotted within the older man. 

Finally finished, they stitched him up to the best of their ability and regarded him sadly.  The tumor in its entirety had been nearly five pounds.  It choked the life of the accomplished physician in their care.  How he had survived as long as he had was a wonder unto itself.  

\---

Captain Jack Aubrey and Lieutenant William Blakeney, officers of the His Majesty’s Navy, sat at attention in the large hall where the induction ceremony was taking place.  Stoic and silent, the two of them regarded the ceremony with the utmost seriousness.  In no way done with their own grieving, they knew that to accept this honor on behalf of their friend was the only right course of action.  However, he was being inducted with nearly twenty other young men, and there seemed to be a production for each.

Finally, the name they were waiting for was called: “Dr. Stephen Maturin, surgeon on board the HMS Surprise.” 

Both men stood and went to the center walkway, where Lt. Blakeney paused at attention, saluting the front of the hall.  Captain Aubrey saluted as well before walking forward to receive the award.  While the main reward of induction into the Royal Society was the induction.  It also came with a certificate and a medal.  As Dianna had chosen not to attend her ill and dying husband, Jack saw no reason that those should make their way to her.  They would stay with him, a man who adored Stephen above all of other men. 

“I am here to accept the award on behalf of - “

“I believe that’s my award to receive, Jack,” a quiet breathy voice said as it wisped down the room.

All turned to see whom had spoken it.  Jack’s jaw went slack as he saw his old friend in a wheel-chair at the other end of the walkway.

“Doctor?” Blakeney exclaimed in obvious disbelief. 

Doctor Stephen Maturin reached out and grasped his young friend’s hand loosely.  “I’ll explain everything when we get back to the ship.”  He looked down the walkway to see the friend of his lifetime, looking simply gobsmacked. 

Nearly pushing the attendant out of the way to do so, Blakeney pushed his friend and mentor down the walkway to receive his award.   As they reached the front, Jack reached out for Stephen’s hand as though he may have been an apparition.  Stephen lightly grasped it and smiled.  “Thank you for staying, Captain.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for all the world, Doctor,” Jack responded, his voice full of wonder.  For all the times he had belittled the doctor’s quest for the advancement of natural science, this seemed to be God himself answering why the quest was so important. Just as important as any orders that he had received from his superiors.

With a tired hand, Doctor Stephen Maturin received his own award for the inclusion into the Royal Society surrounded by his two dearest friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Drs. Annesley and Barrow were actually fellows of the Royal Society during the early 19th century.  However, their specific and chosen fields of study, I mostly made up.


End file.
